They disappeared down the path. With a feeling of depression and disillusionment William turned to go home.
Then his spirits rose. After all, he"d got rid of Thomas, and he was going home to a contrite family. It must be about supper-time. It would be getting dark soon. But it still stayed light a long time now.
It wouldn"t matter if he just got in for supper. It would have given them time to think things over. He could see his father speaking unsteadily, and holding out his hand.
"My boy ... let bygones be bygones ... if there is anything you want...."
His father had never said anything of this sort to him yet, but, by a violent stretch of imagination, he could just conceive it.
His mother, of course, would cry over him, and so would Ethel.
"Dear William ... do forgive us ... we have been so miserable since you went away ... we will never treat you so again."
This again was unlike the Ethel he knew, but sorrow has a refining effect on all characters.
He entered the gate self-consciously. Ethel was at the front-door. She looked at his torn shirt and mud-caked knees.
"You"d better hurry if you"re going to be ready for lunch," she said coldly.
"Lunch?" faltered William. "What time is it?"
"Ten to one. Father"s in, so I warn you," she added unpleasantly.
He entered the house in a dazed fashion. His mother was in the hall.
"_William!_" she said impatiently. "Another shirt torn! You really are careless. You"ll have to stop being a scout if that"s the way you treat your clothes. And _look_ at your knees!"
Pale and speechless, he went towards the stairs. His father was coming out of the library smoking a pipe. He looked at his son grimly.
"If you aren"t downstairs _cleaned_ by the time the lunch-bell goes, my son," he said, "you won"t see that bugle of yours this side of Christmas."
William swallowed.
"Yes, father," he said meekly.
He went slowly upstairs to the bathroom.
Life was a rotten show.
CHAPTER X
THE HELPER
The excitement began at breakfast. William descended slightly late, and, after receiving his parents" reproaches with an air of weary boredom, ate his porridge listlessly. He had come to the conclusion that morning that there was a certain monotonous sameness about life.
One got up, and had one"s breakfast, and went to school, and had one"s dinner, and went to school, and had one"s tea, and played, and had one"s supper, and went to bed. Even the fact that to-day was a half-term holiday did not dispel his depression. _One_ day"s holiday!
What good was _one_ day? We all have experienced such feelings.
Half abstractedly he began to listen to his elders" conversation.
"They promised to be here by _nine_," his mother was saying. "I do hope they won"t be late!"
"Well, it"s not much good their coming if the other house isn"t ready, is it?" said William"s grown-up sister Ethel. "I don"t believe they"ve even finished _painting_!"
"I"m so sorry it"s William"s half-term holiday," sighed Mrs. Brown.
"He"ll be frightfully in the way."
William"s outlook on life brightened considerably.
"They comin" removin" this _morning_?" he inquired cheerfully.
"Yes, DO try not to hinder them, William."
"_Me_?" he said indignantly. "I"m goin" to _help_!"
"If William"s going to help," remarked his father, "thank Heaven _I_ shan"t be here. Your a.s.sistance, William, always seems to be even more devastating in its results than your opposition!"
William smiled politely. Sarcasm was always wasted on William.
"Well," he said, rising from the table, "I"d better go an" be gettin"
ready to help."
Ten minutes later Mrs. Brown, coming out of the kitchen from her interview with the cook, found to her amazement that the steps of the front door were covered with small ornaments. As she stood staring William appeared from the drawing-room staggering under the weight of a priceless little statuette that had been the property of Mr. Brown"s great grandfather.
"WILLIAM!" she gasped.
"I"m gettin" all the little things ready for "em jus" to carry straight down. If I put everything on the steps they don"t need come into the house at all. You _said_ you didn"t want "em trampin" in dirty boots!"
It took a quarter of an hour to replace them. Over the fragments of a blue delf bowl Mrs. Brown sighed deeply.
"I wish you"d broken _anything_ but this, William."
"Well," he excused himself, "you said things _do_ get broken removin".
You said so _yourself_! I didn"t break it on purpose. It jus" got broken removin"."
At this point the removers arrived.
There were three of them. One was very fat and jovial, and one was thin and hara.s.sed-looking, and a third wore a sheepish smile and walked with a slightly unsteady gait. They made profuse apologies for their lateness.
"You"d better begin with the dining-room," said Mrs. Brown. "Will you pack the china first? William, get out of the _way_!"
She left them packing, a.s.sisted by William. William carried the things to them from the sideboard cupboards.
"What"s your names?" he asked, as he stumbled over a gla.s.s bowl that he had inadvertently left on the hearth-rug. His progress was further delayed while he conscientiously picked up the fragments. "Things _do_ get broken removin"," he murmured.
"Mine is Mister Blake and "is is Mister Johnson, and "is is Mister Jones."